The Assassin
by shadow reaper2
Summary: Two soldier groups are fighting for the approval of the Leader. The Leader wants to take over Hyrule. Bishop and Link want revenge. Chapter 6 is up. Please check out my fic and R&R.
1. Kishek's Passing

Author's note: Hey, guess what! You just stumbled across my story! Welcome to the domain of Shadow Reaper. I hope you find my material suitable and enjoyable. Three periods, ..., mean a scene change, and three asterisks, mean a time change. So sit back, get some popcorn and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Honestly, do I have to do it? It's pretty obvious that I don't own Zelda or its characters.

The Assassin 

A gnarled old man sat in front of a small fire outside of his crudely built hut, and his knotted hands clenched his well-used staff. The forest and undergrowth were slowly creeping up to his hut, and the trees completely shaded everything the old man owned. It would not be long before his little hut was completely encircled by the forest. His fading gray eyes stared deeply into the depths of the fire, and, with his staff, he stirred the ashes to make the fire larger. A gentle breeze blew through the trees and cooled his balding head.

"Today," the old man smiled a sad smile, "Today."

The old man heaved himself up and, leaning heavily on his staff, hobbled over to his pile of sticks. After he reached the pile, he reached out with a feeble hand and clutched at a few of the sticks, and then he slowly turned around and hobbled back over to the fire. He dropped the sticks into the flame and sank heavily onto the stump by the fire. After catching his breath, he stared drowsily into the fire, and his eyes glazed as he watched the dancing flames. His mind slowly went over the last nine years.

Nine years ago, the Hero of Time had been found, and he had successfully defeated all evil that crossed his path. Ganon had easily fallen to the Hero of Time, and the Sages had trapped Ganon in the Evil Realm. After everything that the Hero of Time had done for Hyrule, the Princess Zelda sent him back to his home, and she waited for him to return. That was all nine years ago.

When Hero of Time's nineteenth year had come, he returned to his princess. They had a small, unofficial wedding, and they planned to have a real wedding when Link returned from some unfinished business. A week after their small wedding, Link had to leave, but he promised her that he would return when he finished and asked her to wait for him. Although they didn't know it, Zelda was pregnant with his child.

After six had months passed, Link hadn't returned, so all of Zelda's friends advised her to remarry, assuming that Link was dead. At first she refused, but after a few weeks of nagging, she finally gave in. Princess Zelda got remarried, and her friends told her to forget about Link. Besides, she and Link didn't have an official wedding, so there was no bond between them. Or so they said.

At the wedding, neither she nor any of the guests noticed the dark figure that haunted the back of the wedding. Link never returned to his princess. Was it because he heard that she got married? Was it because he was killed? Was he taken captive somewhere and was yearning to get back to his now-married princess? Only time will tell.

A sudden crack in the woods behind him caused the old man to jump. His heart raced as his wide eyes searched the woods, and he raised his staff protectively. Since he had his back to the fire, he did not notice a dark figure that emerged from behind the flame and smoke. As a bear lumbered into the small clearing, an arrow whizzed past the old man's ear. The arrow struck the bear in between the eyes, and the bear slumped over onto its side.

"I have returned," a masculine voice behind the old man said.

The man turned slowly around and faced the voice, and he saw a familiar young man standing behind the fire.

(A/n. You know the main character from DMC2? Well, this guy looks exactly like him, but obviously minus the guns and modern weaponry. And his clothes are jet black. Also, he looks younger; around seventeen years old. At each hip, he has a whip with spikes at the ends, and he has his sword strapped across his back and over his left shoulder. His bow is strapped onto his sword sheath, and his arrows are hanging in a quiver over the whip on his right hip. Oh yeah, his name is Bishop. And I guess I have to do a disclaimer. I do not own this character. I am merely borrowing what he looks like, because I think he looks awesome.)

"I have returned," he repeated.

"Bishop," the old man greeted his bodyguard.

The young man nodded to him and stepped around the smoldering fire. His brown eyes pierced the sky, and he drew a long breath. He shook his white hair from his eyes, drew his sword, and observed it with pride. The hilt had been beautifully crafted from a large onyx stone, and the hilt had been touched with magic so that no one but Bishop could summon the magic. Anyone could use the sword, but only Bishop could use the sword gracefully and use it how it was meant to be used. Small runes ran up either side of the hilt, and they joined in the center and ran down to the blade.

The blade was long and skillfully crafted, and there were small, scrawled runes running up the center of both sides of the blade. If one were to carefully observe the blade, they would see black flames dancing beneath the almost transparent surface, thus giving the blade a dark and glowing look. The black flames were an ancient type of magic, so, once Bishop summoned the flame, the sword could slash through anything. The sword was over three feet long and was very heavy, and Bishop had to grip the hilt with both hands, so he only used his sword when he absolutely had to. The sheath for the sword was jet black, and the same type of runes were running up the back of it. Since the sword was so long, the sheath had to be long too, and it would smack Bishop's legs if he was in a dead sprint. But, he refused to part with it, and he swore that he would take it to his grave. The sword didn't have a name yet, but Bishop knew that a name would come to him whenever the name was ready.

After he finished admiring his blade, Bishop carefully sheathed it again. Then he stooped down next to the fire and concentrated for a few seconds, and then the fire exploded and reached for the sky.

"You shouldn't be outside," Bishop said over his shoulder.

"I know what I should and shouldn't do," the old man sharply retorted.

"Kishek," Bishop sighed as he turned to face the old man.

"Why do you use my name?" the old man asked sharply, glancing around, "I thought I ordered you never to use it out in the open. It's dangerous."

But then Kishek broke into a violent coughing fit, and Bishop stood up and walked over to him.

"Your cough is getting worse. You should be in the hut, resting," Bishop sighed, reaching over to pick Kishek up.

"No, Bishop. My time here is done," the old man wheezed.

"Kishek, you don't know that."

"I do. That's why I'm going to tell you the location of the Lodge. Help me to the hut," the old man gasped, struggling to get up.

In resignation, Bishop reached over and lifted the old man as easily as he would a small child. Bishop gently carried him inside and gingerly laid him on his small mattress made of leaves.

Bishop glanced around the small interior of the hut and saw everything that had been his home for the last few years; a hammock had been strung up for him, Kishek's mattress on the floor, and there was a ring of stones on the floor for indoor cooking.

"Bishop," Kishek gasped.

Bishop quickly kneeled beside him and placed his cold hand on Kishek's forehead.

"Your fever is rising," he remarked.

Kishek feebly slapped his hand away. "Bishop, do you see the rotten panel behind your hammock?"

After Bishop nodded, he instructed, "Pull it out."

Bishop ducked to avoid his hammock and wrapped his fingers around the panel, and with a quick tug, he pulled the board from its place. Then, he reached inside the indention that it made and pulled out a map. The map was of Hyrule.

(A/n. I'm bringing Clocktown into this story. If you're facing the castle, it's southeast, through the Lost Woods, and then a hard days ride through the Dark Forest. The Dark Forest is where Kishek lives.)

"Bring it to me," Kishek commanded.

Bishop strode over to Kishek's bedside and slid down onto his haunches; he handed the old map to him.

"Here is the Lodge," the old man pointed to a certain area on the map.

"Bishop," Kishek whispered.

"Yes?" Bishop asked.

"Your time of protecting me is done. I release you from my command. Go and take my place at the Lodge. Impress the Leader. Only you can do this," he said in a voice of authority.

"You don't mean that, Kishek," Bishop pleaded, "I swore an oath to protect you until your passing day."

"And so you have," Kishek smiled weakly at him.

"No, I have not," Bishop insisted, and a single tear dared fill his eye.

Neither one of them noticed a dark shadow crouching by the door. It slid in and crept up behind Bishop, and Bishop felt his instincts soar. His hand rose to his sword hilt and, as he spun around, pulled it from his sheathe. And not a moment too soon. A man lunged past him, and Bishop swung his sword into the man's stomach. A cry of pain escaped the man, but he slipped a knife from his sleeve and threw it at Kishek. Bishop watched in horror as it stuck Kishek in the heart.

"No!" he shouted.

He grabbed the man by the shoulders and threw him outside with every ounce of strength in his body. Bishop ran out after him and undid the leather thongs that held his whips captive.

As the man stumbled to his feet to face Bishop, he taunted, "I have killed the mighty Kishek. The price on his head shall be rewarded to me!"

What the man was trying to accomplish was a disheartening tactic, but it had the opposite effect on Bishop. It filled him with rage. Bishop sent his whips slicing through the air, and the left whip spun itself around the man's wrists while the right whip wrapped itself around the man's neck. The spikes imbedded themselves into the man's skin.

"Which group are you from?" Bishop growled.

"The Dominion," the man hissed.

"Who sent you?" Bishop growled back.

"I will never betray the Leader," the man smirked.

"Wrong answer," Bishop growled, pulling his right whip as hard as he could.

The man made a weird choking noise as his head was ripped from his shoulders. The head soared through the air and landed in the forest behind Bishop, and he strode over and sunk his sword into the man's carcass. Through his rage, he quickly quartered the man and threw his pieces off to the right.

"Consider yourself lucky. Your death was reasonably quick. Be glad I was merciful," Bishop growled to the air.

Suddenly, a worried expression covered his face. Bishop spun quickly on his right heel and sprinted back to the small hut, and, when he reached it, he ducked inside.

"Kishek?" he whispered.

He crept to his charge's side and placed his hand over Kishek's heart. It was not beating. Bishop set his jaw firmly, and his eyes filled with rage.

"I will avenge you, Kishek," Bishop clenched his fist, "I promise."

Author's note: This chapter is a lot longer than the other ones will be, but I will do my best. Please RR. I would really appreciate the reviews.


	2. A Family Argument

Author's note: Man, I think both of my stories are cursed or something like that. No one reviewed. Well, here's the next chapter. Like anyone cares.

Disclaimer: Does it matter? Of course I don't own Zelda or its characters.

…

As the sun slowly sank, a guard on watch sighed. He had been on patrol for the last eight hours. He casually looked to the right, and then he looked to the left with a bored look on his face. Behind him, Hyrule castle was settling down for the night.

"Patrol is so boring. Nothing ever happens," he complained to the darkening night.

His last complaint had been made. An arrow sang through the air and inserted itself in the back of the guard's neck, while he made a strange hissing noise as the arrow emerged through the front of the neck. As he sank to his knees, his mouth opened and closed a few times, and blood began to spill out of his mouth. Finally, he pitched forward with his eyes wide open with surprise. As his face struck the stone ground, a dark figure crept over the wall and slid over him. What was one life when he had taken so many?

…

"Everything is in motion, Lord Damion," Gidion cleared his throat.

The manservant stood in a small study, and he was standing at attention and had his eyes fixed on the back of his master's head. Lord Damion stood with his arms crossed over his chest, and he was standing in front of a large fire that roared in his fireplace. He stood in a trance, and his large silver eyes were blurred.

"My lord," the manservant hesitated to break the silence, "Do you think it will work?"

Lord Damion broke out of his trance. "One can only hope," he replied and turned his attention away from the fire to his manservant.

Lord Damion's dark brown hair spilled onto his brow and covered some of his handsome face. He was wearing a long, dark cloak that covered his whole body, and his boots were made of the finest leather.

"Begin to torture the captives," he commanded. Gidion bowed slightly and left the room.

In his head, Damion thought, "Princess Zelda, you are a fool to try to banish me. Don't you know that I have more power than you could possibly imagine? And don't you know that I have the greatest possible weapon to use against you?" A smirk played at the corner of his lips.

…

As soon as Kishek was buried, Bishop stood and strode out into the open. After he reached the middle of the clearing, he whistled a high and piercing note. A few minutes passed, a howl replied, and Jarek gracefully loped up to his master. Bishop reached down and ruffled the black wolf's fur, but his expression soon changed to anger.

"Kishek entrusted an important mission to me. And I am going to see it completed. Will you join me?" he whispered to his wolf, while searching the deep, red depths of Jarek's eyes. Jarek then did something he'd never done before. He licked Bishop's cheek.

A slow smile spread across Bishop's face. "Let's do this."

The teenager and the wolf disappeared through the surrounding darkness into the forest.

…

A fair maiden in a white tunic sat in the moonlight's soothing wash. Her long blonde hair shone like silver, and her skin was the color of a fine cream. Her large blue eyes mirrored the moon. While she stared up at the large, white orb, a dark shadow slipped past her. She suddenly shivered; a small breeze had come from nowhere.

"Skye?" a light voice called. The shadow suddenly froze along the courtyard wall in fear.

"Yes, Mother?" Skye called back, and a look of annoyance crossed her face.

"What're you doing out here? It's getting late. You should come in."

Zelda stepped into the moon's vision, and its rays washed her blonde hair and her face. The shadow slipped past Zelda and hurried into the castle.

"Isn't this where you met the Hero of Time?" Skye abruptly changed the subject.

Zelda sighed, walked over to Skye, and settled down beside her. "Must you bring this up?"

"Yes," Skye answered flatly. "I've seen the records that you tried to hide. I've heard about him from the Elders. I've seen the tree that you and he carved your names on at your wedding. Isn't that where you pledged to remain true to each other?" Skye interrogated.

"Skye, I was ten, and we weren't really married," Zelda sharply replied.

"No, you were four years older than me. Nineteen. Your friends poisoned your mind. You were married. Don't deny it."

"What's your point?" Zelda warily asked.

"You shouldn't have done it."

"Done what?"

"Left him and married someone else! Everyone I've talked to has said that he was the most noble and handsome man that they had ever met. He even saved your life! How ungrateful can you get? And now he's gone! Probably never to return!" Skye exclaimed.

"Skye!"

"What?"

"He's dead. Why do you care?" Zelda asked.

"He's not dead, and you know why," Skye growled.

"Skye-" Zelda began.

"What? What lie are you going to make up this time? What lie are you going to make up about my father?" Skye angrily asked, while her blue eyes stared at Zelda.

"Kolin is your father," Zelda said, her anger was slowly rising.

"That creep is not my father! I saw the birth records that you tried to hide in your room!" Skye exclaimed.

In a low voice, Zelda commanded, "Go to the castle and stay in your chambers. Do not leave your chambers until I summon you. Now!"

Skye stiffly stood up and marched off, but a hurt look played at the corners of Zelda's eyes. She heard the truth in Skye's words.

"But that was before I'd met Kolin," Zelda tried to reassure herself.

Tears filled her eyes. "He shouldn't have left! For all I know, he's dead! At least Kolin would never leave me like that. At least Kolin wouldn't get himself killed," she cried, and a few tears spilled onto her dress.

…

Skye silently fumed as she hurried down the long hallway that led to her room. When she reached her door, she gave the doorknob a vicious twist and pushed in. After the door closed behind her, she hurried over to her bed and reached underneath it. She pulled a worn backpack out from under her bed and placed the pack on her bed.

"Dead. It's not true, and she knows it. She's just afraid. Afraid of what'll happen when he returns, and when he sees that she had a son with another man. I can't stay here with that creep and his son! He's corrupted mom, and now who knows what'll happen," Skye fumed as she stormed around the room. Faint wailing came through the walls and lingered in her room. Skye thought she was going to go crazy.

"There's that stupid baby again! All he does is cry! He's no better than that father of his! That-" she let the sentence trail off as she searched desperately for a word to describe him.

When she couldn't find one, she stalked over to her dresser, pulled some of her clothes out and stuffed them in her bag, but she selected a dark tunic and pants to wear. She quickly changed clothing, tugged on her boots, strapped on a modified pair of her father's gauntlets, and pulled her long, blonde hair into a ponytail. Before closing her pack, Skye stormed over to her dresser, pulled out a journal that she had hidden underneath her clothes, and gently ran her fingers over it. Then, she carefully carried it back over to her pack and gently slid it in.

"The gang wars are getting worse! Where is perfect Hyrule? Where is the Hero of Time? He's somewhere else, that's where, and I'm going to find him," Skye promised her room, as she tied the pack shut and walked over to the window. She shoved it open and slipped out into the night.

Author's note: There's chapter two. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope that you'll review. Please.


	3. Bishop's Fight

Author's note: Yes! Someone reviewed! Thank you so much! You have no idea of what this means!

Greki: Thank you for thinking that my story was interesting. What do you mean by spacing problem? I'm not sure that I understand. Thank you so much for reviewing!

A/n: And now, on with the tale of Bishop. Hopefully this will reveal a bit more.

Disclaimer: …Zelda is not mine…

…

Zelda wandered back into the castle and groaned when she heard Rike crying. She sighed as she hurried into her room, and she slid over to Rike's crib. His blue eyes were shut tightly, and he was screaming. Zelda reached down and lifted him out of his crib. She carried him over to the bed and sat down; she began to rock and nurse Rike.

"Kolin? Are you awake?" she asked over her shoulder.

A grunt replied, so Zelda turned around to look at her husband. He was lying facedown in a pillow with another one pressed over his head. A bit of his black hair poked out the top of the pillow sandwich, and his purple eyes were hidden.

"You could have gotten Rike," Zelda hinted.

No response came from the pillows, and Zelda rolled her eyes and finished with Rike. He had calmed down and was almost asleep, so when he fell asleep, Zelda carried him back over to his crib and gently laid him down. As she sank down onto her bed and extinguished the small candle by the bed, a single name raced around her mind.

"Link, the Hero of Time."

…

Lord Damion swiftly marched down one of his fortress' long hallways. Doors lined the walls on either side of him, but he ignored them all until he reached the one he was looking for. He reached inside his cloak and pulled out a ring of brass keys, and he selected one and inserted it in the lock. He turned the key, and the door sprang open. He entered and closed the door behind him.

"Gidion?" he called.

Out of the shadows, a figure emerged. Gidion bowed low and asked, "Yes, my Lord Damion?"

"Have you gotten anything out of the captives?"

"Nothing useful, my lord," Gidion replied, nibbling on his lower lip.

Damion muttered an oath and growled, "Keep them on the rack. If you learn anything, inform me immediately. Failure is not an option."

"Of course, my lord," Gidion bowed.

Damion spun on his heel and quickly strode out of the dark room; Gidion watched him leave and turned around. He spoke a few words in a foreign language, and the wall in front of him noiselessly slid open. He entered, and the wall slid noiselessly back.

…

Bishop and Jarek slid through the remaining foliage of the forest. Instead of taking the main road, which takes four days when you're walking, they cut through the forest and saved three days of traveling.

"This is the place," Bishop muttered, eyeing the town in front of him. He pulled Kishek's map out of his pocket and studied it carefully.

"Apparently, this town has four entrances. Terrible defense," he mused.

"It's called-what an imaginative name-Clocktown," Bishop raised an eyebrow. Jarek looked up at him and whined.

"Let's go," Bishop shrugged, starting to walk toward the town.

As they approached the city, a guard shift was occurring, so Bishop and Jarek were able to slip in unnoticed. Bishop slipped through the city until he came to a certain building.

"There's the inn, so that means the L," Bishop caught himself, "the place that I'm looking for is here," he looked to the right, and when he saw it, his jaw dropped open.

"You've got to be kidding me," Bishop muttered, looking skeptical.

There, in front of him, was the Milk Bar. Bishop's arms dropped to his sides and a look of resignation came over his face.

"Hey, camouflage is good," Bishop tried to say, but he ended up raising his eyebrows in disappointment. Jarek whined.

Bishop shrugged and slipped forward. After his gloved hand grasped the doorknob, he opened the door and walked in. What met him was anything but a milk bar.

…

At the rise of dawn, a small figure slipped through the retreating darkness, and the white falcon that was perched on his shoulder shone in the lessening gloom. The dark figure scurried along the rock-strewn path and slipped a few times.

"Can't be late, can't be late," he hissed to himself.

"Today's the day that he is going to appear. And I can't be late," he hissed, scurrying toward Clocktown's walls.

…

As the sunlight kissed her eyelids, Zelda awoke, and her eyelids fluttered open to meet the dawn. She slipped out from under the sheets and slid over to her large window. From this window, she could see many things, and she loved watching the sun wash everything with its refreshing rays. In the courtyard below her, the grass looked like many polished emeralds, while the small stream looked like pure crystal, and the walls looked like fine marble. But something was out of place. A bit of red was staining the grass.

Zelda looked closer and realized that it was a bloody blade. As her hand flew to her mouth, the baby started to scream. A look of irritation crossed her face as she sighed and turned away from the beautiful courtyard.

She reached down in her son's crib and lifted him out of it. "It's okay, Rike. I'm here."

She sat down in a chair that was by the large window and began to feed Rike. While she was sitting there, some unwanted memories slowly filled her mind…

_"I love you, Zelda," Link had breathed down her neck._

_"I love you too," Zelda had replied._

They had been sitting in the exact chair that she and Rike were sitting in now, and the chair had never been moved. Zelda had been sitting on his lap, and he had his muscular arms wrapped around her. It was the second night after their small wedding, and they were watching a gorgeous sunset.

Zelda softly sighed as she leaned her head back and rested her head against his strong shoulder. Her small body was cradled against Link's muscular torso, and his rough fingers interlaced themselves with her soft fingers. His calm blue gaze shifted down to look at her, and Zelda's lips parted slightly. Link fingered the simple shift that she was wearing, and the white shift and Link's white pants were colored red from the sunset. Zelda shivered a bit and then she relaxed. He leaned down and kissed her; they kissed until the sun left the window, casting the room into darkness.

Although Zelda didn't know it, a few tears had fallen down her cheeks and landed on Rike's head. Kolin grunted in his sleep, and Zelda's beautiful face turned away in anger.

"Kolin, it's time to get up," she broke the silence.

"Wha?" he grunted, raising his sleepy head from the pillows.

"Good morning," she said warmly.

He mumbled something as he threw the sheets aside and struggled to his feet. His slim figure had no muscle, and his purple eyes were heavy with sleep. His shaggy black hair hung in his eyes, and he stretched.

"G'morning, Zelda," he mumbled, stumbling over to her and sleepily kissing her.

"Shall we go to breakfast?" Zelda asked, while she carried the now sleeping Rike back to his crib.

"Food. Food sounds good," he answered, pulling a robe on.

"Well then, let's go," she smiled, taking his hand and led him to the door.

She reached for the doorknob and, after her slim fingers wrapped around it, twisted it. A pale servant was waiting for them.

"M-my lady," he stuttered, "I have some very bad news."

Zelda inwardly groaned, but asked, "Yes?"

"The King was-" the servant bit his lower lip.

Worry spread across her face. "What about my father?"

"The King was assassinated last night in his sleep," fear was evident in the servant's eyes.

"What?" Zelda shrieked.

"The King was stabbed quite a few times with what appeared to be a sword," the servant replied.

Suddenly, Zelda remembered the blade in the courtyard. "Quickly, go out into the courtyard and fetch the sword there. Hurry!" Zelda commanded. The servant bowed and scurried away. Zelda's pale face turned to look at her husband.

"Don't you know what this means?" she whispered.

"I'm king?"

Before Zelda could reply, another servant ran toward them. "Princess Zelda!"

"What now?" Zelda groaned.

"We found a note beside the king!" the boy gasped, and his brown eyes were wide with fear.

"What did it say?" Zelda shakily asked.

"It said, 'This is nothing compared to what your death will be, Princess Zelda'," the boy read, and then he held up a crumpled piece of paper. Zelda fainted.

…

There, before Bishop, was the infamous Lodge. Small tables were everywhere, and everyone at the small tables were sharpening or cleaning some kind of weaponry. The air had been heavy laden with talk, but it ceased as Bishop entered. Jarek snarled as a tall man approached them.

"Who're you?" the man drawled, swaggering up to him.

"Someone you should fear," Bishop icily replied.

Roars of laughter erupted from the man and the surrounding group of men. Jarek laid his ears back and showed his naked fangs.

"And why should I fear you?" the man laughed.

"Because I'm about to challenge your leader," Bishop growled, and his hands tightened around his whip handles.

"That's odd," the man looked amused, "Because I'm the current leader."

Bishop's eyes were laced with hate. After the man saw that Bishop wasn't going to reply, he said, "You'd have to fight me."

"Let's dance," came the cold reply.

"Skiff, you gonna take him on?" one of the Rogues asked in surprise.

"Yes," Skiff replied.

"You're choice," Bishop growled.

"For what?" Skiff asked as his brow furrowed.

"Where to fight, _Leader_ Skiff," Bishop put a hard emphasis on leader.

"I'd hate to burst your bubble, but you ain't walking out of this alive," Skiff said in fake remorse.

"Oh really," Bishop asked in a flat tone, bracing his legs.

Skiff, unnerved, glanced around at his followers and said, "Tonight, out in the west field."

"I'll be waiting," Bishop replied in a low tone, turning on his heel and leaving the Lodge. Jarek let Skiff look at his fangs for a moment longer, and then he loped after his master.

…

In a giant room, three velvet cushioned crystal chairs were spread around a crystal table. The ceiling stretched on forever, and the walls were midnight black with white stars. In each of the chairs, a figure was slumped over at a weird angle. But then, one of the figures eyes fluttered open; she glanced around the room and sat up.

"He did it," she said in awe.

The sound of her voice woke the other two women, and they sat up and stared at her.

"What?" Nayru asked.

"He did it," Farore repeated.

"Oh no. How long has he been free?" Din groaned.

"Five years," Farore replied, looking at the crystal table, which had been carved out of a giant crystal. The table supplied them with information that they couldn't get themselves.

"So it's finally happened," Nayru mused.

"But, if he got loose…" Din suddenly realized.

"Tarok also escaped," Farore finished.

Fear shone on each of their faces, and Farore covered her face with her hands.

…

A dark figure slipped into the Lodge, and he quickly observed Skiff preparing his weapons.

"Did he come?" he hissed eagerly.

"What do you know about this, Shadow?" Skiff angrily asked.

"I know everything," Shadow smiled.

"So why did you ask me if he came?" Skiff regretted the loss of words.

"That I do not know," Shadow studied his gray boots.

"Since you must know, he did," Skiff scowled, strapping his newly sharpened sword to his belt.

"And he challenged you to a duel? Where?" the small boy in gray eagerly asked.

"Yes, he did. We agreed on the west field. Now get out of here. I have no desire to talk with you," Skiff growled, throwing a knife at the gray clad figure.

Shadow easily dodged the knife, but the knife barely missed his falcon. He gave Skiff an angry look and slipped out the door.

"One of these times, I'm gonna kill that boy," Skiff thought, sliding a knife down his boot.

…

Bishop slipped out of the city and found the west field. He quickly searched the area for traps of any sort.

"What have we here?" Bishop mused, and a slow smile spread across his face.

He unlaced his whips and stepped back a few paces; he let his whips slice through the air and land on a camouflaged metal contraption. The piece of metal snapped upward with such force that it would have snapped a leg in half.

"You coward," Bishop growled to the air.

He searched around again and found nine more of the metal traps, but one of the traps almost caught Jarek. After tweaking the battleground to his satisfaction, Bishop climbed a tree and waited, while his wolf slunk into the dark forest. A gray clad figure hid himself in the shadows of the forest, and the afternoon slowly slid into dusk.

A dark figure was perched atop a small outcropping of rocks. A cloak hung loosely about his body and his face was shadowed from his hood. He settled himself more comfortably and waited for Skiff and his crew to appear.

As dusk faded, many torches emerged from Clocktown. Skiff stood at the head of the group, and he glanced uneasily around for Bishop.

"Don't worry. I'm here," Bishop's cold voice called.

Skiff flinched and called back, "Where are you? I can't see you."

"I can see you," Bishop returned.

Behind his back, Skiff motioned for a few of his men to search the forest, and he called, "I like to be able to see my opponents."

"Get used to disappointment," Bishop returned.

Suddenly, a cry of pain erupted from the forest, and a white-faced man pulled himself into the clearing. From beneath the knee, his leg was gone.

"Come fight me, coward!" Skiff challenged.

"Me? A coward? Where would you get that idea?"

"Taking out my men with my-" he paused when he suddenly realized that Bishop had rigged his whole cheating system. All of his traps were gone. Skiff's face paled.

"First, the rules. Only you and I fight. No one else. Agreed?" Bishop asked.

"Fine," Skiff nervously replied, glancing about.

A smirk slid across Bishop's lips as he sent his eager whips toward their target. Skiff heard the hiss of the whips and whirled around, but he was too late. The whips wrapped themselves around his wrists and pulled him forward. Bishop launched himself from the tree and crashed down on Skiff.

"Come on!" Bishop roared in challenge.

He released his whips and danced back, while Skiff's injured wrists reached down and pulled his sword from its sheathe. Bishop danced around Skiff and flicked his whips around the man's legs, and the whips ripped some flesh from Skiff's legs. Before Skiff could react, Bishop was already gone, and his whips were streaking at him from a new angle. This continued for half an hour.

In the loose circle that surrounded the two fighters, one Rogue leaned over to the man next to him.

"The boss can't hit this guy!" he whispered in awe.

"Yeah, this kid is good. I've never seen anyone use whips in combat this well before," the man whispered back. They both turned their attention back to the fight.

Blood was staining the ground around Skiff, and Bishop was still attacking him. Bishop's whips relentlessly ripped at Skiff's flesh, and Skiff still hadn't gotten a hit in.

"And now, for my trademark," Bishop smirked as he sent his whips soaring in a deadly arch. One whip wrapped itself around Skiff's neck, and the other wrapped itself around Skiff's wrists. Bishop jerked on his whips, and Skiff fell to his knees.

"You are not fit to be a leader. If I can handle you this easily, I couldn't imagine what my superiors could do to you," Bishop spat, looking down at him in disgust.

"Please, spare me," Skiff pleaded with a pale face.

"No," Bishop calmly replied and jerked his whips.

A look of horror crossed Skiff's face as his head was slowly ripped from his shoulders. The rest of the gang gasped.

"Anyone else?" Bishop asked in a threatening tone, raising his whips in challenge.

The gang glanced uneasily at each other and slowly dispersed. Soon, only Bishop was left standing in the field with Skiff's corpse. His hands slowly released themselves from his whips, and he wound his whips back up. As he whistled for Jarek, he heard a soft thump. He quickly dropped to the ground and rolled sharply to the left. Soft laughter followed him.

"A bit tense, are we?" a voice called.

Bishop warily stood up while a dark figure slowly unmelted itself from the darkness. It was a man wearing a dark cloak.

"Who are you?" Bishop warily asked the newcomer.

"Me? I'm no one. The real question is, who are you?" the dark man asked.

"Bishop," he replied.

"I watched your performance tonight. Very impressive. Why are you wasting your time with these so-called gangs? Why don't you skip them?" the man asked, slowly approaching.

"What do you mean?" Bishop warily asked.

"Why don't you skip directly to the Leader? Your performance was impressive enough. I could get you in," the man said in a low tone.

"How do I know that I can trust you?" Bishop warily inquired, and his whips appeared in his hands.

"That, I can't answer," the man held up his hands in resignation, but he finally reached Bishop.

"Trust me. You don't want to turn this up," he told Bishop in a low tone.

Then he asked, "Are you a tracker?"

"Yes," Bishop uncertainly answered.

"Then, for your evaluation, I think I might have a mission for you. I can't guarantee it, but I think that you'd like it," the man mused, and his tall form loomed in the moonlight.

"I never said I was going to accept," Bishop answered, unconsciously stepping back a bit.

"This isn't a yes or no question. You're coming whether you like it or not," the man growled.

Before Bishop could say anything, the man whistled sharply, and a small figure ran out of the forest. A white falcon pierced the dark sky and settled on the gray figure's shoulder.

"Shadow. Glad you could make it," sarcasm plainly showed in the man's voice.

Before Shadow could reply, the man turned back to Bishop. "Bishop, get your wolf and follow me. Quickly."

Bishop whistled slowly and Jarek loped up to him. Jarek snarled at the other two forms. In reply, the man's hand stretched out toward the wolf, and Jarek shrank down as if the man had struck him.

"Hey! Stop," Bishop growled, knocking the man's hand away.

"Follow me," the man told him, but he never took his eyes off of Jarek.

The man and Shadow disappeared into the forest, and Bishop realized that he had no choice but to follow them. He whistled for Jarek to come, and Jarek cowered by Bishop's legs. They disappeared into the forest after the other two men.

Author's note: I hope that you liked this chapter, and I hope that you'll continue to check my stories out.


	4. The Leader?

Author's note: Yes! Someone actually likes my stories!

Arctic Wolf 18: Thank you so much for reviewing and even putting me on your author alert list! Thank you so much! Heh, you think Bishop is that gory? Well, I suppose it gets worse, so I'll raise my rating. Just to make sure some little kiddies don't find it…but they could anyway. ;) Can you give me a particular area that you were confused by? I want my stories to be as readable as possible, so if you could help me with that, that'd be great. I'm sorry, this chapter isn't going to be very interesting. It's just an explanatory chapter, but I promise that exciting chapters are coming. Thanks so much for reviewing! You're awesome!

Disclaimer: …the usual…

A/n: And now, here's a bit more background! (I think)

…

Later that evening, Gidion carefully approached the door to his master's study, and he quietly opened the door and slid in. What he saw made concern for his master fill his mind. Damion's head was resting on a huge pile of maps, and he was sitting at a desk that was strewn with papers and books. Gidion eyed his master with more concern growing in his eyes.

"My Lord Damion," the manservant cleared his throat.

Damion jerked up and glanced wildly around. When he saw Gidion, his silver eyes calmed and he sat up.

"Yes, Gidion?" he yawned.

"My lord, I believe that I have some good news," Gidion said, and something that might be described as a smile twitched at Gidion's lips.

"Yes?" Damion raised an eyebrow.

"Do you remember the princess?" Gidion asked.

"Of course I remember her," Damion scoffed.

"She ran away from the castle two days ago."

"What? How do you know?" Damion exclaimed, standing up quickly in his excitement and banging his knees on the desk.

"One of our many inside sources reported back just a few minutes ago. Apparently, the castle doesn't even know yet. They might know now, but when my contact left, the castle was oblivious," a small smile tugged at his lips.

"I'm going to need a tracker," Damion excitedly mused.

"Use this one," a voice from the corridor said.

"Ah, Gage. Who's with you?" Damion greeted, stepping around his desk and limping slightly.

"My lord, this is one of the finest trackers in all of Hyrule," the man in the dark cloak announced, stepping aside to reveal Bishop.

"I found him battling the leader of the Rogues. This boy," Bishop cringed at being called a boy, "Killed Skiff easily. Why you're wasting your time with the gangs is beyond me," the dark man muttered.

"Gangs? Please. Those are training groups. They're all competing with each other for the honor of serving me," Damion said and he arched his eyebrow.

"What ever you say," the man muttered.

Damion carefully evaluated Bishop, and Bishop's muscles tensed as Damion's strange silver gaze slid over him.

"No need to be frightened, boy," Lord Damion mused, coming to a decision about him.

"With a recommendation from Gage, you must have some skill. All right, Gage, if you trust this boy, I have a mission for his evaluation," Damion announced, brushing aside some books so he could sit down on his desk.

"Have you seen the Princess of Hyrule?" Damion interrogated Bishop.

"Yes," Bishop icily replied.

"We have a youngster with an attitude," Damion chuckled.

"You're a youngster yourself," Gidion thought.

"The Princess of Hyrule ran away from the castle. I want her. Bring her to me, and you will like the reward," Damion's eyes were almost wild with excitement, "Gage, suit him up. He leaves tomorrow morning. You may not assist him," Damion said before the dark man could interject.

"Now, go. I have work to do," Damion sighed, looking tired again.

The dark man grabbed Bishop's elbow and steered him out of the room. Gidion lingered a bit longer and said, "My lord, you're twenty-four. You're not immortal. Get some sleep."

"I know my limits, Gidion. Go back to torturing your captives," Damion dismissed him with a sweep of his hand. Gidion bowed and left the room.

…

The dark man led Bishop down one hallway and up another; they twisted through so many hallways, Bishop's head was becoming muddled. Shadow was trailing along behind them.

"Don't worry about your wolf. He'll be fine where we left him," the dark man said over his shoulder. He paused in front of a door, and after he opened the door with a ring of keys, he shoved it open.

"Here we are," he announced, leading Bishop into a large kitchen.

He signaled for some refreshments to be brought, and then he led Bishop over to a back table and sat down.

"Weren't you taking a risk saying that I was one of the best trackers of Hyrule?" Bishop asked, slowly settling himself in one of the chairs.

"No. After I evaluated you, I could see that you have the look of an experienced tracker about you. Were you an assassin in the past?" the dark man carefully asked.

"Can we leave the past where it belongs?" Bishop quietly asked.

"Your past a touchy subject? I know what you mean, so forget I said anything," the man shrugged.

After the dark man finished talking and relaxed into his chair, he swept back his forbidding hood. Bishop stifled a gasp.

The man's hair was cut so close to his head, that Bishop couldn't determine whether the man's hair color was light brown, blonde, or white. The man's eyes were blood red, and his Elven features were hard. Some small, silver hoops hung from each ear, and the tips of his ears were sharply pointed. A large scar ran down the right side of his face, but what interested Bishop the most was the man's eyes. When closely observed, one could see that his eyes changed color. The main color was red, but flecks of other colors could be seen mingling with the red.

Laughing slightly at Bishop's surprise, he said, "Yes, my features are unordinary."

Still stunned, Bishop managed to stammer, "How did you get your hair cut so closely?"

"My secret. Name's Gage, by the way," the man extended a gloved hand.

Bishop shook the extended hand and began to slowly eat the food that had been brought.

"I can tell that you're interested in my eyes, so I'll enlighten you. There are only a few of my people left. I am one of the disappearing Majiks," Gage told Bishop, leaning back and studying his reaction.

"You're one of the Majiks?" Bishop asked in surprise.

"Apparently you know of us," Gage mused as he arched an eyebrow.

Bishop quickly glanced down. "I've heard of and studied all of the ancient tribes of Hyrule."

"Ah. And now you want to know if I possess the Magic," Gage sighed, and Bishop glanced up in surprise at hearing his unasked question, "Yes, I do."

"I never thought that I'd ever actually have the privilege of meeting one of the Majiks," Bishop said in awe.

"Hm, you…" Gage trailed off.

Bishop raised his eyebrows, and Gage studied him. Bishop felt uncomfortable under Gage's cold stare, and he fought to keep from squirming in his seat.

"Never mind," Gage shook his head and returned to his meal.

After Gage had eaten a few more bites, he set his eating utensil down and cleared his throat.

"Now, I'm supposed to brief you. As you know, the princess ran away from the castle a few days ago," he said, taking a quick swig from his mug, "My contact told me that she was headed toward the Dark Forest. You're familiar with that particular forest, correct?"

"Yes," Bishop mumbled.

"Good. This mission has no due date, but the sooner that you complete it, the better. And after you complete the mission, you'll like the reward. Trust me," Gage told him, scooping up a few more bites of his food.

"You're not allowed to come with me, but what about my wolf?" Bishop asked.

"Your wolf will be allowed to accompany you," Gage nodded, shoving his empty tray away and signaling for it to be picked up.

After a silent servant cleared the table, Gage leaned his elbows on the table and spoke in a low tone, "When you return from your mission, do not return to the fortress. Find me behind the fortress. We have some talking to do. Maybe even an exchange."

Gage leaned back in his chair and said in a normal tone, "You're going to need your rest if you're leaving at sunrise. I'll show you a place to sleep. Follow me," he stood and motioned for Bishop to do the same.

"Shadow," he sharply called.

The small boy emerged from where he had been lurking by the door and stood at attention.

"Make sure that Bishop's wolf gets fed and watered. They have a long journey tomorrow," he commanded.

The small boy bowed and left. Then, Bishop turned to Gage with a curious look in his eyes.

As if Gage could read his mind, Gage answered Bishop's unasked question. "No, he's not my slave. His father owed the Leader a lot of money, but before he could pay it off, he died. So, I took his son in to pay off his father's debts. He has long since paid them off, but after I told him that he was free, he refused to leave," Gage explained while he led Bishop down another hallway.

If Bishop had observed Gage closely, he would've noticed pain hiding in his eyes.

"Here," Gage opened a door and Bishop walked into the small room. It looked like a cell.

"When you're ready to leave in the morning, softly knock on the door six times. I'll let you out," Gage informed him, closing the door and locking it.

Left alone in the dark, Bishop groped around in the dark, but he growled an oath when something sharp and pointed rammed into his lower torso area. He quickly sank to the floor and began utter a few choice words. He reached over and punched a narrow part of the offending object.

"Stupid piece of-" Bishop was silenced when something hit him on the head.

"What the?" he though, feeling for it.

After that, his hands closed around an object that felt like a candle, and he remembered something.

"I'm such an idiot," Bishop muttered, shaking his head in irritation.

Bishop concentrated for a few seconds, and flame burst from his open hand. Not wishing that his magic be discovered, he used the flame to light the small candle, and then he let the fire go out. Then he glanced up and looked at the offending object; it was a small table. An irritated look covered his face as he picked up the candle and placed it on the table. For the first time, Bishop glanced around his cell, and although it was small, it was clean.

"Nice of them," Bishop said dryly.

A small cot was shoved against the wall, and a small waterspout came out of the wall and emptied into a small grate on the floor. Bishop assumed that the small grate was a makeshift privy. The table that he walked into was beside the bed. He pulled himself up and sank down onto the cot; he swung his legs up onto the cot and tried to get comfortable. Much to his surprise, the cot was very comfortable, and he was asleep in seconds.

A/n: I hope that this chapter didn't bore you to death. Please review, and exciting chapters will follow!


	5. Princess Skye: Found!

Author's note: Okay peeps, here we go. Here's a bit more action. I hope that you like this chapter!

Arctic Wolf 18: Thank you. And about Gage, you'll just have to see. Maybe he is Link. Maybe he's Dark Link. Or, maybe he's just a guy who looks like Link. Who knows. ;-D So, I hope that you like this chapter, and thanks for reviewing!

Disclaimer: Is this necessary?

…

The dark forest loomed in the moonlight, and each sound echoed eerily around the empty branches. And it was here that Skye had decided to run to. She was exhausted and hungry, because she had forced herself to walk for the most part of two days.

"I have to keep moving," she said wearily to herself, "I'm sure that they've missed me by now."

She fought through one final hedge and found herself staring at a beautifully clear lake that reflected the moonlight. It was shaped in a perfect oval, and the surface looked like a mirror. Skye didn't hesitate. She dropped to the ground and fell asleep.

…

In his cell, Bishop stirred and came awake. He glanced around and saw that his candle had gone out. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet firmly on the ground. He stood up, staggered over to the waterspout, and splashed his face with the cold water. Spluttering water, his senses immediately came clear.

A few more minutes passed, and then Bishop stooped over to the door. He placed his ear against the door and heard faint breathing. He tapped the door six times, and, to his satisfaction, he heard a key grate in the lock and the door swung open.

"Morning," Gage cheerlessly greeted, "Getting an early start?"

"Yeah," Bishop replied, noticing that Gage's hood was back up.

"Here," Gage handed Bishop a small pack, "This will be enough for you and her for at least four days."

Gage glanced around and said in a low tone, "You should find her by nightfall."

A confused look covered Bishop's face. "If I'll find her that quickly, why do I need four days rations?"

"You'll see," Gage icily replied.

"Okay…" Bishop still looked a bit confused.

"Follow me," Gage quickly led Bishop through more winding corridors, and when he finally stopped, Bishop had to swallow a sigh of relief. Gage pulled out a ring of keys and, after sifting through for a few seconds, found one and fitted it to the lock. The door swung open, and Bishop saw a dark sky and the forest.

"Call your wolf," Gage commanded.

Bishop whistled his note, and almost immediately Jarek loped up to Bishop and carefully avoided Gage.

"Good luck. Don't forget to meet me behind the fortress," Gage said as he closed the door. Bishop heard the key grate in the lock.

"I guess that that's our cue to be going," Bishop said in a sarcastic tone and quickly spun on his heel and strode into the forest. Bishop had beaten the sun by two hours. The blank sky covered the forest. Bishop was on his way.

…

A day before, Zelda almost fainted again after she had received news of Skye's departure.

"What else can go wrong?" she moaned and hid her face in her hands.

She was sitting in the dining hall with Kolin and already five different servants had appeared and had given five different directions as to where the princess had gone.

"Kolin, how many units can the infantry spare to go after Skye?" Zelda asked through her hands.

"I'm sure as many as you need," Kolin said with his mouth somewhat full. He was viscously attacking dinner.

After a second passed, Kolin called a servant over. "Ask the Captain of the Guard to send a unit in each direction. There's no way that they'll miss her."

"Also, send out a notice of a reward for her return. Any hunters or trackers will gladly be hired," Zelda added.

After the servant had gone, Kolin reached over and placed his hand on Zelda's hand.

"Don't worry. They'll find her. Now, why don't you eat some dinner?"

…

Once Jarek found the princess's trail, the rest of the tracking was simple. All that Bishop had to do was walk through the broken brush, leaving no trail of his own.

After night had fallen, Bishop came across the lake. Instead of breaking through the brush, he crouched down and peered through his prickly shield. A pile of clothes was further down the shore, and something silver was in the middle of the lake. It took him a second to realize that he princess was swimming. He rolled his eyes and motioned for Jarek.

"All right, this is what we're going to do. You, go get her clothes and hide them in that thicket. I'll sneak around behind her and, after you're done, casually trot up to the water as if to take a drink. I'm sure that she'll be afraid of you, and she'll probably back up, right into my waiting arms. After I have her, I'll carry her over to that thicket and tie her up or something like that. I would do it out in the open, but I believe that someone else is looking for her, because I heard something a few hours ago that sounded like armor. So, can you do that?" Bishop whispered to his wolf.

Jarek bared his fangs and slipped through the brush. Bishop smiled and slid the other way.

Jarek resembled a shadow as he slipped up and gently sunk his fangs into the pile of clothing. He carried his prize over to the designated thicket and dropped the clothes behind the shield of thorns. Then, he slipped back and carried the rest of the clothes into the thicket. After he successfully hid all of the clothing, he casually trotted over to the water's edge and took a long and grateful drink.

Skye was gracefully floating on her back, absorbing the moonlight. The moonlight shone on her pale body, and she gracefully kicked her legs to stay afloat. Suddenly, she bolted upright in the water; she heard a lapping noise. Her eyes frantically searched to shore, and she spotted the large, black wolf. She slowly paddled backward, and, just as Bishop had predicted, she swam right into his waiting arms. He quickly clamped his free hand over her mouth as she started to scream, and he wrapped his other arm around her waist. He waded out of the water and suddenly paused. He heard muffled talking and clanking armor. Bishop sprinted the last remaining feet to the thicket and ducked inside.

"Quiet, princess!" he hissed angrily in her ear.

Surprisingly enough, she stopped screaming into his hand, and Bishop released her mouth and quickly tugged his cloak from around his neck. He threw it on the ground and pushed her onto it. To cover her pale body, he quickly laid down on top of her, and he covered her head with his arms.

"Jarek!" he hissed.

The wolf appeared and laid on his master's white hair. The talking got louder, and a group of infantry appeared. They were all swapping jokes and stories. When they saw the lake, they glanced around and, after they didn't see anyone, they broke for the lake, shedding armor and weapons on their way.

"Fools. I can't believe that they call themselves soldiers," Bishop growled deeply in his throat. He felt the princess squirm underneath him.

"Stay here, princess. If you try to get away while I'm gone, Jarek will snap your neck," Bishop hissed as he pushed himself off of her and slipped away.

Skye lifted her head to watch, and she observed her captor slip to the water's edge and release some long ropes. He began to flick the ropes out toward the soldiers, and one by one, they were all killed. Their blood stained the clear water. Skye glanced up at the wolf, and the wolf snarled at her. She stayed where she was until Bishop returned.

"I'm assuming that that was one of the groups of infantry of the castle. If they're all like that, your castle is in trouble," Bishop sounded disgusted.

"It's not my castle," Skye answered, pushing herself off of the ground.

"Really, princess," Bishop said in an amused tone.

Skye was suddenly aware of her nakedness. "Would you stop calling me princess?"

"No," an amused smile twitched across his lips.

An irritated look covered Skye's face, and she glanced around helplessly.

"Dress yourself, princess," Bishop commanded, slowly winding up his whips while facing her.

As she opened her mouth, he stopped her. "No, I will not leave."

"Men," she grumbled and walked over to her clothes. Jarek had stretched out on them, and he made no move to get up.

"Um," she mumbled, pointing at the wolf.

Without replying, Bishop bent over, picked up his cloak, and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was much too large for her, so it easily covered her whole body.

"Jarek. Come," Bishop commanded.

Jarek rose obediently and loped over to his master. Bishop walked over and picked up her clothes. After he carefully sifted through them, he found her boots, and he tossed them to her, shoving the rest of the clothes into her small pack that had been hiding in the pile of clothing.

"Nothing else?" Skye asked in an irritated tone.

"Put your boots on," Bishop ordered, standing up.

She obediently slipped her feet into her boots and wrapped the cloak closer around her.

"Walk," Bishop commanded, pointing her out of the thicket. She started walking, and they kept walking until the next morning.

…

A slow malice began to spread across Hyrule. Some ancient danger had awoken. Cloudy skies plagued the day, and hardly any rain fell. All of the inhabitants of Hyrule were slowly cast into a light depression. Everything was restless. Every breath of nature prophesied that something was going to happen. The wind roared it. The water whispered it. The mountains rumbled it. The rain pelted it. The sun baked it. The stars winked it.

A deep breath had been taken. Now, everything waited for its release. And nothing will survive the exhale.

…

Dawn slowly peered over the shade of black, and the eager sun slowly rose to take dominion over the dark sky. Everything was washed anew with its refreshing rays. Through this beautiful morning, Bishop drove Skye on.

Gasping for breath, Skye said, "I must rest."

Bishop looked irritated. "Five minutes."

Skye crumpled to the ground under the shade of a tree. Jarek came over and nosed Bishop's hand, and Bishop realized that Jarek was asking for food.

"Go catch something," he laughed, and Skye's head jolted up when she heard him laugh, "The food I have will not satisfy you."

Suddenly, Bishop realized his own hunger. So, he sank down on the grass and let the pack slip from his back.

"Get up, princess," Bishop called.

She wearily lifted her head and stared at him with slightly glazed eyes.

"Come eat something," Bishop said, sifting through the food in the pack.

"I'm not hungry," she said stubbornly, and she crossed one leg over the other and sat with a stubborn look on her face.

"Okay," Bishop casually replied.

Bishop stood up and walked over to her. As he towered over her, she gave him a surprised look. He reached down, grabbed her arm, and yanked her up.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked, and she began to batter him with her remaining fist.

"Princess!" he said sharply.

He slapped her across the face, and she recoiled from the force of the blow.

"You hit me," she whispered.

Bishop looked disgusted. "Oh, I forgot. Castle brats can't take blows."

"I am _not_ a castle brat!" she spat.

"Really," Bishop said in an amused tone.

"If you'll give me my bag of clothes, I'll eat," Skye said hopefully.

"Here," he sighed, tossing her the bag.

"Thank you," she said curtly and moved off into the forest.

"Don't try to escape. If you do, I'll know," Bishop called after her.

After she was far enough away, Skye mimicked, "Don't try to escape."

She sighed and pulled her pants on. After she did so, she shed Bishop's cloak and pulled her tunic over her head. Feeling refreshed, she glanced around for a possible escape route. Suddenly, something crashed in the forest next to her.

"He wasn't kidding," Skye smiled a bemused smile, "Even if I think about escape, he'll appear."

Suddenly, Skye realized that her captor never made a noise when he walked. The wolf didn't make a noise when he loped along either. Skye realized that she was afraid.

"Help?" she whispered.

Suddenly, a huge monster crashed from the forest. The monster's skin was leathery and its feet were large. Its skin color was a mixed brown and green, but no hair spilled from any part of its body. Four terrible fingers were attached to each hand, and the fingers had long, jagged nails attached to the end of them. Above all, its eyes were blood red with anger, lust, and hunger.

Skye stared up at it in fear, and she frantically searched her belt and clothing for a dagger or something. Finding nothing, Skye shrieked, spun around, and fled. The monster roared and pursued her, its claws outstretched.

A/n: So, what did you readers think? Am I taking too long? Or are these chapters just right? Are they suspenseful enough? Please review and tell me.


	6. Bishop: Dead or Alive?

Author's note: Okay, I'm back in business. Sorry, school has been keeping me really busy! But, here's another chapter, so I hope that it's good enough!

Arctic Wolf 18: Thank you for being very protective of my characters! First Mithra and Kara, and now you're protecting Skye! Hm, maybe I need to hire you as a personal body guard….;) Thanks for being an awesome reviewer, and here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it, since you're the only person reading this. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I've already said it.

A/n: Now, on with the story!

…

But, before it could reach her, two dark shadows burst from the forest. In each hand, Bishop was holding a twelve-inch dagger, and he launched himself at the huge monster. When Skye glanced over her shoulder, she could hardly follow his movements, because Bishop was literally flying around the giant, making various cuts and slashes, drawing the monster's eyes to him.

While Bishop distracted the monster, Jarek jumped in and clamped his teeth around the monster's neck. The monster roared and feinted a slash at Jarek. Bishop jumped down and slashed the monster's claw before it could reach Jarek. But, Bishop had made an almost fatal mistake: he had forgotten about the monster's other claw.

"Oh no," he thought.

The creature brought up its other claw and ripped its nails across Bishop's stomach. It would've decapitated him with one giant, hooked nail, but Bishop quickly summoned his magic and snapped the monster's finger off. While it threw its head back and howled in fury, Bishop jammed both of his daggers into the tender area underneath the jaw. Its howl stopped halfway through, and a long hiss came out instead.

Bishop ripped his daggers out of the creature's neck and jumped back. Jarek ripped a chunk out of the thing's neck also, and then he dropped gracefully to the ground. Then, without warning, the monster dropped forward and landed with a loud crash, with its life spilling out its neck.

"Are you alright?" Skye whispered, edging around the giant to Bishop.

Bishop somehow managed to put both of his daggers away, but he drew in a sharp breath and looked away. His eye glazed slightly, and Jarek leapt forward as his master slumped to the ground.

"Triforce curse it!" Skye swore.

She rushed forward and somewhat caught Bishop before he hit the ground. Skye was surprised that Jarek didn't growl at her.

"Come on, Jarek. Help me get him back to camp," she grunted and tried to lift Bishop.

Seeing as she couldn't, she slowly flipped Bishop onto his back and hooked her arms underneath his armpits. She slowly dragged Bishop back to the camp.

…

Gage slipped out behind the fortress and began to prepare the area that he would stake out. Being practically second in command, Gage could go where he wished, whenever he wished, and no one would stop him from leaving the premises. He silently prepared the area and slipped away.

…

It was after the sun slipped down from the horizon when Bishop finally came back to the waking world. He groaned and lifted his head.

"Finally awake?" a soft voice asked.

Pain seared across his stomach, and he bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out. Blood pushed its way out of his mouth and down his cheek. Skye reached over and wiped it away.

"Don't overexert yourself," she warned.

He gave her an odd look, and then he glanced around. His sword and his bow were lying beside him, and his whip belt was resting beside him. His quiver was propped against the rest of the belt, and the feathers of the arrows cast long shadows against the ground. Jarek was lying against his right side, and a small fire was going. When he was about to say something, Skye held up her hand.

"I had to risk it. Without a fire, it would've been impossible for me to boil the salve that I needed to rub into your wounds," she explained with her back to him. She was doing something over the fire.

Then, Bishop noticed that his shirt was gone, and some white paste had been spread over the gashes on his stomach. Blood stained the top of his black pants, but no wounds extended down that far.

"Can you eat?" she calmly asked over her shoulder.

Bishop grimaced as he tried to raise himself onto his elbows, but more blood started to spill from his mouth.

"I'll take that as a no," Skye sighed and gently eased him back down.

"That Taol did a number on me," Bishop groaned.

Jarek stood up and loped up to Bishop's head, and he gently pressed his nose against Bishop's head, and when Bishop lifted his head, Jarek laid down. Bishop rested his head against the wolf's soft flanks and waited for the lights that appeared in his eyes to disappear.

"Here, sip this as best as you can," Skye softly said, and she moved over to his side.

She was holding a small bowl, and some hot, clear liquid swished around inside. She pulled a spoon from her pocket, and she filled it with the liquid. Then, she held the spoon against Bishop's lips.

"This will help," her soft voice said as Bishop opened his mouth.

She let the liquid slip out of the spoon and into his mouth. This type of feeding continued on for a few minutes, but Bishop finally shook his head when Skye's hand returned for the umpteenth with the filled spoon.

"Enough?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said harshly.

"Okay," she quietly replied.

She moved away and returned with a blanket and another bowl. She dipped her fingers in the bowl and began to dribble some purple liquid over the white paste.

"This will keep the paste from rubbing off, and it will help you heal quicker," she said. Although her eyes were downcast, she could still see the question in his eyes.

She continued to spread the liquid over the white paste, and she was able to cover his gashes four times with the strange purple liquid.

"The more I put on, the faster it will help the paste," she explained, her eyes were still downcast.

When the bowl was empty, she flicked the rest of the liquid off of her fingers, and, after she moved back over to the fire and began to scrub something, Bishop ventured a question.

"Where did you get the bowls?" he asked, surprised at how well he felt.

Her eyes never left her work, but she smiled, "You don't think that I left the castle completely unprepared, do you?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but she silenced him with a sharp glance.

"Don't talk. I'll tell you as soon as I'm done here," she said.

Then, Bishop realized that she was scrubbing his shirt. Apparently, she had rubbed some type of cleaning liquid on it, because the blood was dripping off and wasn't leaving a dark stain against the black cloth. When she finished, she folded his shirt and laid it beside him. Then, she picked up the blanket that she'd brought over earlier and laid it over him.

"When I left the castle, I left through my window," she said, drawing her knees up to her chin and staring into the small flames, "Then I crept around outside until I got to the kitchen. They always leave the window unlocked, so I opened it and slid in. I put three bowls and some various eating utensils in my pack, and I snagged some food. After I finished that, I basically left the way I came and headed for the Dark Forest," she concluded, and she let her legs back down.

"You seem a lot more mature now then when I first met you," Bishop commented, and Skye glanced over at him.

"You do something to make everyone underestimate you, right?" she asked.

Bishop slowly nodded, and Skye continued, "What I do to make someone underestimate me is act really immature. If I find myself in a dangerous situation, I try to make my enemy underestimate me, and, if I succeed, I use a fighting technique that I learned from my father," Skye whispered.

"Who's your father?" Bishop quietly asked.

"The Hero of Time," she replied.

"How old are you?" Bishop inquired.

"Fifteen."

"The Hero of Time disappeared over fifteen years ago. How would you have learned anything from him?" Bishop asked.

"I found one of his journals that my mother must have missed. His journal was filled with his fighting moves, techniques, and weapon choices. I have it with me," she whispered.

"Is that why you ran away?" Bishop pressed, wanting to learn more about her.

"It's late," Skye evasively danced around the question and said, "You'll need your rest, because if you get enough, you'll be well by tomorrow morning."

Skye carefully unfolded a blanket for herself and continued, "You're lucky. That monster didn't get its claws very deep. If they'd've gone in any farther, we'd be here for a week or longer, considering that that's how long it probably would've taken me to heal you, if not longer," she said in a meaningful tone, glancing at him.

"Yeah," he mumbled, staring into her eyes, trying to find the truth.

Feeling uncomfortable in his gaze, Skye turned her back to him, arranged some large stones around the fire, and walked back over to her blanket, and settled down on the hard ground. She rolled herself into her blanket, snuggled against the ground, and was asleep in seconds.

Bishop stayed awake for a little while, and he listened to her breathing. He could feel Jarek's flanks rising and falling with each breath, and Bishop let his head sink into Jarek's silky fur.

"What does she have to hide?" Bishop thought, gazing up at the stars.

The fire crackled and sent a small shower of sparks into the air. As Bishop slowly let himself slip into unconsciousness, he felt as if something was watching him. He tried to ignore it and fell into an uneasy sleep.

…

Later that night, Jarek suddenly shot up and vanished into the forest. Bishop's head cracked sharply against the ground, and he muttered an oath.

"Jarek?" he whispered, glancing around the black night. The fire had long since gone out.

Harsh breathing came from the forest in front of him, and it was steadily growing louder. Bishop carefully felt around him, and his fingers found his sword and whip belt. He quietly pulled his things toward him, and he quietly buckled his whip belt around his hips. Then, he reached for his sword, dragged it toward him, and slipped the top over his shoulder. He brought the two ends of the strap, which were attached to his scabbard and held his sword on, together over his chest, and he quickly buckled the two ends together. Bishop felt the hard leather biting into his left shoulder, and the strap also bit unmercifully into the right side of his stomach. He ignored the pain and slowly undid his whips as the strange breathing shattered the still air. He silently rose onto his haunches, but he suddenly hissed in pain. Lights exploded in front of his eyes and he gripped his head with his whip handles.

Suddenly, he sensed something. He sensed that a dark form had slipped into the camp. Bishop sensed his own disability to move quickly, and he shrank back into the shadows, trying to avoid being seen until the last second. The dark form approached, and its harsh breathing was still. It slid over to Skye bundled-up form and slowly reached down. Bishop's muscles tensed. It reached down and flipped the blanket off of her face. Bishop could feel a terrible smile spread across its lips.

"Princess Skye. My search is at an end," it hissed.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Bishop growled.

The dark form spun at the sound of Bishop's voice, and a sword quickly gleamed in the sudden moonlight.

"She's traveling with someone?" it harshly questioned the night.

In a silent reply, Bishop stretched out his hand, and red light erupted into the night. The man recoiled and his eyes were momentarily veiled with blindness. Bishop used that to his advantage. He leapt to his feet and launched himself at the man, and he set his whips soaring ahead of him. The man's cry of pain announced to Bishop that his whips had found their target, and Bishop viciously ripped his whips away, taking the man's skin with them.

Suddenly, a chilling howl erupted through the cold night, drowning out the man's scream. Another man raced into the campsite with a shadow pursuing him. The howl erupted again, and Bishop smiled. Jarek never missed his prey. With a spell-bounding leap, Jarek flew into the air and came down on the man's back. The man screamed as the back of his neck was ripped apart by angry fangs.

Meanwhile, after Bishop bound the man's hands with his whips, Bishop pulled out his twelve-inch dagger, and he forced it through the man's neck. Blood erupted from where the tip of the blade quickly emerged while the man's eyes went blank as he pitched forward, dying.

Bishop jerked his dagger out of the man's neck, and he yanked his whips away from the man's wrists. He glanced down at Skye, but she wasn't there. Her blankets were still lying there, and Bishop noticed that a dark form that had something slung over its shoulder was slipping away through the forest.

"You did not," Bishop growled in rage, and he set out after the form.

Shouts erupted around the campsite, and Bishop quickly realized what had happened. Two trackers had found Skye's trail and had led a brigade of soldiers to their hiding place.

"Triforce curse it," he swore.

Before leaving the campsite behind, Bishop quickly stooped down and picked up Skye's pack, and he quickly strapped it onto his belt. Then, he chased after the shadow that was vanishing through the darkness. Suddenly, Bishop charged straight into the brigade of the soldiers, and they all stared at him in shock. Bishop's muscular stomach heaved as he observed them all, and the soldiers eyed his large muscles with fear.

A few seconds of shock passed, and then the commander of the soldiers broke free of the trance and recognized Bishop as an enemy. "Kill him!"

The soldiers were quick to comply, and they eagerly jumped forward with their swords drawn.

Bishop swore again, and, with lightning speed, he had his whips wound up and had his long sword clenched in his hands. This made the soldiers pause for a millisecond to stare at how long and powerful it was, but then, the first of the soldiers reached him and swung his sword at Bishop. Bishop dodged, brought his sword up, and slashed through the soldier's stomach. Then, Bishop swung his sword around and caught another blade that was slicing through the air toward him. Bishop quickly brushed the sword off and drove his sword through the soldier's neck. But, the next second found a sword biting sharply into Bishop's left arm. Bishop roared an oath, and he swung his sword around, decapitating the soldier. But, after that soldier fell, another soldier was there to take his place.

"There're too many. The man with Skye will be long gone by the time that I get rid of these soldiers," Bishop grimly thought, blocking another flying blade.

Then, Bishop summoned the magic that was sleeping in his sword, and the magic awoke, making the sword spring to life. The black flames erupted from the sword, causing all of the soldiers to fall back in fear, but then Bishop was among them. They all saw flames flying everywhere, and the soldiers who weren't killed were set on fire with fire that couldn't be quenched. Since his sword had created a large confusion, Bishop quickly took the opportunity to summon a mist, and soon a thick mist rolled into the area, creating more confusion then before. Soon, the soldiers were fighting themselves, and Bishop slipped through them and sprinted after the man who had Skye.

Bishop sprinted through the forest, and he was carefully tracking the footsteps of Skye's captor. Soon, a shape formed in front of him, and he could see Skye's large blue eyes staring at him desperately. Skye tried to call his name, but, at that moment, she realized that she'd never heard his name. But, she could see the anger in Bishop's eyes, and she watched while he charged at her with his sword drawn. Her captor heard his breathing, and he whirled around to face Bishop.

"It's too bad that you came all this way just to die," her captor commented, since he had never encountered Bishop before.

"Will everyone stop telling me this!" Bishop roared, and, with one mighty swing, he decapitated the man.

Bishop caught Skye as she flew from the corpse, and he sprinted through the forest with her in his arms. Skye watched the trees while they whizzed past, and she could feel Bishop's muscles tensing and relaxing with each breath. Suddenly, Skye realized that Jarek wasn't loping behind Bishop, and she looked around more carefully to see if she could spot the wolf. But, as if in answer to her question, Jarek materialized through the forest, and he fell into step behind his master. Bishop took no notice of his wolf, and soon, the sound of the fighting at the campsite faded into the background.

After they had gone a bit further, Bishop slowed down and set Skye on her feet. He inhaled deeply and looked at her.

"You okay?" he gasped, placing his hands behind his head to help regain his breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Skye nodded, shaking in fear from being snatched in her sleep.

"Sorry that I didn't get to you sooner," Bishop apologized, breathing deeply and regaining his breath.

"It's okay," Skye whispered, but then her eyes widened in shock. "You're bleeding!"

"I bleed all the time," Bishop replied casually, and he examined his left arm and shrugged.

"It'll be okay, but we need to make tracks," he told her.

Skye nodded, and Bishop set off at a brisk jog, so Skye fell in behind him with Jarek. They ran through the night, leaving the campsite far behind.

A/n: So, how was it? I'm sorry this update took so long, but like I said above, school has kept me very busy. But, hopefully, I'll be more prompt with my updates. Next chapter coming soon!


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